Grabber in the Rye
by chubby-choco
Summary: They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself...the problem is, Cal and Niko define 'fear' on a level very different to the rest of the world; Cal especially. And one day in a rye field proves more insightful than either brother would like. Oneshot.


Summary: They say there is nothing to fear but fear itself...the problem is, Cal and Niko define 'fear' on a level very different to the rest of the world; Cal especially. And one day in a rye field proves more insightful than either brother would like. Oneshot. WARNINGS - swearing, minor violence.

Rating: T

A/N: A little oneshot I did for no apparent reason. I was looking over Fearsome Critters (a North American collection of cryptozoological beasts), and the grab-a-bodies/grababodies really caught my attention. They sounded so creepy! So…um, yes. You'll find out what grababodies are when you read the fic.

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**Grabber in the Rye**

"Shit, Nik, I know we can't control where the monsters move, but a _rye farm_? Couldn't Promise have transferred us to a different job?" Cal growled, looking around the large golden field.

Niko glanced over at his younger brother, quirking one eyebrow slightly. "You underestimate the threat this thing could be, Cal," he said shortly. "It's already killed seven. And don't think it won't leave this field to kill more."

Cal knew it was true. Grababodies were said to be voracious, cruel hunters. About six feet tall and remotely humanoid, they didn't seem too dangerous at first. Their gray skin was baggy and webbed, covered in dark red varicose veins, and they had no eyes…

…and then you saw that freakishly wide mouth lined with countless razored teeth, and all of a sudden, it let hundreds of jagged points erupt from the flesh of its arms in a spray of sickly orange blood. And you would have little time to understand how fast they moved, because a grababody would come up behind you, wrap its arms around you, push those jagged spines into your chest, and rip you open like a cow.

Cal shuddered and looked around. He was surrounded by rustling brown-gold as tall as his head. His vision was obscured, and all he could hope for was a flash of gray to signal where their prey was. He looked at Niko uncomfortably. "Just so I know what we're dealing with here…all those rumors about how they kill…true?"

Niko tensed his grip on his weapon. "…yes."

Cal's eyes widened, and his stomach turned into knots. "I see," he said, trying to ignore the way his throat tasted like bile. "And…do they have any redeeming factors?"

"They speak. They can therefore be taunted into making a mistake, and sometimes they'll be stupid enough to give away their position before an attack." Cal was about to respond, when the reek of rotting meat wafted over them. Niko froze. "Quiet," he said in a voice barely above silence. "It's getting closer."

The brothers fell dead silent, and all around them was the high-pitched whine of the wind through the fields…

Then they heard it.

"_When a body…grabs a body…comin' through the rye…_"

It was about a hundred feet away, but it could cover that in moments.

"I see it doesn't know the right words," Cal rasped.

"Shut up," Niko hissed.

The plants rustled as it came closer…slowly, deliberately. "Grabs a body…" it cooed. "Grabs…grabs a body…"

Niko locked eyes with Cal and pointed at where the voice was coming from. He pulled his fingers into a gun shape and mouthed the word 'bang.' Cal didn't need to be told twice. In a heartbeat, his Glock had been fired exactly where Niko was pointing, and a shrill scream erupted from what was undoubtedly their target. Cal went to rush over, but Niko grabbed his arm.

"What?!" Cal demanded.

"A single bullet won't kill a werewolf. What makes you think it'll kill one of these?"

Cal felt kind of stupid for not thinking of it. "I just…I want to get out of here."

Niko's words of warning were none too soon, though, because soon after came the gurgling laugh, and a sick, lilting, "Grabs a body…comin' through the rye…"

When it came into view, the reason for its lack of coherent English and predatory behavior was clear. Someone had already shot it. What looked like an ill-placed shotgun blast had carved away half its head.

And it was still alive.

Still moving.

Still speaking.

"Son of a bitch!" Cal said disgustedly.

"That was probably what made it slow and clumsy enough to track down," Niko noted dryly, swinging his sword towards the creature's head…

…apparently, survival instinct went far beyond half your head. The creature ducked to one side, emitted a high-pitched scream, and leaped behind a wall of rye in the time it took the brothers to blink. Rustling grasses were the only indication as to where it was now, and it was moving fast.

Cal offered a few well-aimed shots. One must have hit, because it screamed again, and was angry enough to vault from the rye and sink its teeth into his arm. Cal roared in pain and let a few more bullets slam into its gut. That made it pull away fast enough. It went back behind the rye…but now it moved silently. Cal turned to his brother, his gray eyes becoming sparks of corybantic rage.

"What does it take to kill them?!"

"My guess?" Niko growled. "No less than beheading."

"Beheading! I can't do that with a gun, Nik!"

"Then leave it to – "

No roar. No hiss. No scream. It just leaped from the golden wall, directly behind the older brother. Niko didn't have time to react before it shoved barbed arms into his chest and giggled in a sadistic pitch, "Pretty dark body…pretty, pretty dark boy…mine now."

Cal felt the urge to throw up. Niko's eyes were wide in horror as it started to pull its arms apart, delirious with the realization that he could do nothing.

Something snapped in Cal's mind. Like a twig amidst a howling hurricane, something in the depth of Cal's sanity could no longer hold up under the strain. "_Get away from him!_" Whether from sheer panic or instinct, he gated over instead of running. Maybe some deeper thought of him thought that ten feet was just too far. But before Niko's ribs had even started to creak, Cal had ripped its arms off of Niko's chest.

And off of the grababody. Cal tackled it down, no longer shooting. He was using the butt of his gun to crush in what remained of its head. When the thing was too delirious to struggle, he looked over at Niko. "Knife!" he hissed.

"Cal…"

"Niko, give me the fucking – "

"Cal!" Niko barked. Cal fell silent…then he realized Niko's chest was unmarred. He looked down at the twitching arms on the ground. Someone had sawed the spines off. It was shuddering beneath Cal pathetically, now whimpering like the world's ugliest puppy.

That blast out of its skull hadn't been in self-defense. This thing was tortured.

"Cal, kill it quickly."

Cal nodded darkly, then took the knife and held it against the grababody's throat. "I'm not sorry," he said flatly. Still, Cal made short work of the creature. When he stood up, he looked at Niko. Cal's limbs trembled as Niko looked him up and down sternly. "Cal, never do that again."

"It…it was going to kill you."

"So was Hob. You weren't that terrible to Hob."

Cal laughed shortly. "You're shitting me, right? I gated him to Tumulus."

They were silent for a moment. Niko sighed and rubbed his temples. "Cal…I can handle myself."

"But you missed. You didn't. It was faster than you."

Niko didn't seem very happy with that. He looked down at what was once a feared predator, then back up at Cal. "Let's not talk about this one until we get home."

"I don't want to talk about it at all."

Niko gave him a stern look and Cal became quiet. They trudged towards the car, Niko dragging the lifeless animal behind him for disposal purposes. The car trip home was silent as the grave, the grababody's elimination even more so. The remainder of the ride was met with a static-stressed radio station, which Cal fiddled with just enough to distract himself.

When they finally went into the apartment, Niko turned to his brother with a steady expression. "Cal – "

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"And I told you I don't want you gating."

"I don't care," Cal responded, avoiding his brother's icy stare. "Niko, if that thing hadn't been barbless, running ten feet wouldn't have gotten us anywhere. You'd have been dead by then."

"That's not true," Niko protested.

Cal turned suddenly and beat his fists against Niko's chests, his eyes widening to gray orbs of desperation. "It is, you stupid bastard, it is!! That thing would have ripped you in half, and I'd be alone!" Cal's breath came in trembling gulps as he continued, "That…that thing almost killed you…it almost killed you, Niko. And I was right there. If I'd just watched or been too slow while you died…I'd be alone. And I'd have no one to blame but me…" He fell back, unfamiliar with the sting in his eyes, and not wanting to let Niko see his face just in case he really was crying.

Niko stared at Cal for a moment, then rested one heavy hand on his shoulder. "…I don't want you killing yourself because I'm only human."

"I don't want you dying because I can't use the part of me that's not!"

More silence. There was a lot of that going around.

"I'll make you a deal," Niko said softly. "I'll stop getting in trouble if you stop gating."

Cal nodded. "Right."

Niko raised one broad blonde eyebrow. "Liar."

"Right back at you," Cal growled, rubbing his eyes.

They looked at each other for a moment, still full of things to say…then they all drifted away. Niko was in no mood to hurt his brother, and Cal was in no mood to do the same.

The older of the two of them glanced at the TV and said, "So…there's a werewolf program on History in a few minutes that details their origins. Care to watch it?"

"Sure. I could use a good laugh."


End file.
